


Try Me

by twdsunshine



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 22:31:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18291536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twdsunshine/pseuds/twdsunshine
Summary: When the reader grows tired of sharing her husband with his other wives, she takes drastic action.  But will it have the desired effect?





	Try Me

**Author's Note:**

> This was requested by @witchy-writing-blog on Tumblr a couple of months ago.
> 
> ‘Can you please write one where the reader cheats on Negan cause she has enough of him and fed up with having to share him?’

Negan’s eyes raked over you, darkening into a simmering glare as his lips drew into a thin tight line.  Your pulse quickened as he brought his fingers to your chest, his touch light as it danced over the marks your other lover had left behind.  You could feel his rage building, see it in the tension that locked his jaw, hear it in the low growl of his voice when he finally spoke.  'Who the fuck did this to you?’

You’d regretted it almost as soon as it had happened, in truth.  It had been all wrong from the moment his right-hand man’s meaty paw had clamped around your thigh, drifting upwards, clammy and unsettling.  The taste of tequila was overwhelming as his lips had crashed down on yours, no competition for the whiskey burn that you’d become accustomed to when you were kissed, and his mounting pleasure was punctuated by deep guttural grunts as his hips pressed you into the couch, his weight on top of you suffocating, his muscles too bulky, flexing and shifting as he reached down to unbutton his jeans.  Simon had been a means to an end, a way of proving to Negan that if you had to share, he damn well could too, but, although the flirtatious banter and lustful looks had set a flicker of heat alight in your stomach, as soon as he’d made a move and you’d allowed him to get close, the flame had extinguished.  Your only option was to squeeze your eyes tight shut, hold your breath and wait for it to be over.

Afterwards, he’d shot you a self-satisfied smile as he clambered to his feet, stretching his arms above his head before tucking himself away and refastening his belt, and when you’d showered the scent of him off of you, the sight of his bruises marring your skin had turned your stomach.  It had been a stupid idea, reckless and hurtful for all involved, and it wasn’t the way you wanted things to be.

Now though, with Negan’s stare still burning into you, dripping with possessiveness, you began to wonder if it might have been worth it after all.  He was circling you like a vulture, checking for further evidence, your little black dress pooled on the floor around your feet, and you swallowed hard, thinking carefully before you replied.  'Just a friend.  Does it bother you?’

‘Does it bother me?’  He leant in close so that you could smell the enticing mix of mint and whiskey on his breath as he sneered.  ‘What the fuck do you think?  You think it would bother me that my favourite wife is apparently offering herself up to any Tom, Dick or fucking Harry that fancies a roll in the hay?’

His favourite wife.  He’d told you that before, of course, but it still sent a tingle of pleasure down your spine.  You fought to keep the smile from your face as you lifted one foot from the ground, circling your ankle as you expected the scuffed stiletto heel of your shoe.  'Well, you’re my favourite husband, but I’m not allowed to be bothered by the fact that you sleep with other women.’

For a moment his mouth dropped open, and you could see the cogs whirring in his head, brow creasing in a frown, before his mask slipped back into place.  'My wives belong to me, princess.  You know the deal.  So, why don’t you tell me exactly who marked you up like a goddamn leper and I’ll introduce him to Lucille, huh?  Yeah, they’re gonna get real well acquainted.’

'It doesn’t matter.’  Tired of having this conversation semi-clothed - Negan had been well on his way to backing you towards his bed when the bites had stolen his attention - you stooped to retrieve your dress, tugging it back up your body and slipping your arms through the straps.

'Of course it fucking matters.’

'No, Negan, it doesn’t.’  You took a daring step towards him, noticing how he grit his teeth as you reached out to cup his face in your hand, stubble scratching against your palm.  'You know I hate this.  You know I’m sick of sharing you.  I love you and you know that too.  So, this is how it’s gonna be from now on.  If I don’t get you all to myself, then you don’t get me either.  I want you to know how it feels.’

Strong fingers wrapped around your arm, holding you in place as he ducked his head to snarl in your ear.  'I will kill anyone who dares to lay a fucking finger on you, sweetheart.  I’ll have someone watching, every minute of every day, you can count on it.  You’re mine.’

‘And I’ll just find someone else.’  You matched his glare, squaring your shoulders as he seethed.  You knew you were walking a fine line here, quite literally dancing with death, but that felt more exhilarating than anything else as his gaze dropped to your lips.  You were millimetres apart, and the tension, the anger, was already shifting into something heady and delicious.  

'You wouldn’t.’

'Try me.’  His brows shot up at the challenge in your tone.  'You can’t control me, Negan.  I don’t need anything from you.  Hell, throw me out into the cold if you want to.  I’ll survive.  It’s what I do.  I don’t need you.’

If it were possible, his eyes darkened even further until the deep chocolate irises were almost completely obscured.  ‘Is that right?’

'You know it is.  I’ve never needed anything from you.’  You took a deep breath.  'I want you though.  Always wanted you.  Only you.’

His tongue snaked out to trace along his bottom lip and you longed to lean forward and taste him, but you knew that to waver now would be to give in, resign yourself to the fact that your husband would never be a one woman man.  ‘So, what exactly am I supposed to do now, doll?’

You shrugged, jutting your bottom lip out into a pout that you knew would tug at his conscience, just a little.  'I guess that’s up to you.’

A second of silence.  Then another.  And finally he brushed past you, striding across the room and through his quarters, and yanking open the door that led out into the gloom of the corridor where one of his men stood guard.  'Mark, get your ass over to my wives’ quarters.  Ask Sherry to pack up Y/N’s things and then you bring them right the fuck back here.’

‘Yes, sir.’

As Mark’s footsteps faded into the distance, Negan turned back to you where you stood in the doorway to his bedroom, his eyes sparkling.

'What are you doing?’  A niggle of doubt had crept into your mind as he issued his orders, and you couldn’t help but wonder whether you’d pushed him too far.  Was he calling for your things so he could throw you out, not quite callous enough to leave you with nothing?  Was this it?  Was the Sanctuary about to close its gates to you?

But the smirk on his face wasn’t vindictive, and his swagger as he made his way back over to you was one of victory.  'Well, doll, seeing as you can’t be trusted, I guess you’re just gonna have to move in here where I can keep a fucking eye on you.’

‘I-I… What?’  You hadn’t expected that, and, as Negan pushed past you, nudging you gently out of the way, your gaze followed him, questioning.  'You want me to move in here… With you?’

'Well, how the hell else am I gonna know who’s coming knocking for you, huh, wife of mine?’  He cocked his head to one side, watching for a reaction.  'Reckon they’ll be brave enough to come in here, swinging their dick?’

Your mouth was dry and you were still struggling to keep up, but your mind was stuck on one question.  'What about the others?’

'The others are nothing to do with you.’  There was that glower again, so familiar and yet it still knotted your stomach.  'My arrangements with them are between each lady and me, and that’s the way it fucking stays.’  Your face fell, and you knew he’d seen it, but his own expression was softening as he folded his long body onto the bed and reached for your hand.  'Still, not sure how much time I’m gonna have to spend seeing to their baser needs when it appears I’m gonna have to be keeping such a close eye on you, sweetheart.  Shit, we had a good run.  Most marriages, the sex is pretty much fucking over six months in, right?’

‘Right.’  It finally hit home what he was doing, and you bit your lip, struggling against the grin that wanted to split your face.

He couldn’t let you win.  No, that wasn’t Negan’s style.  He was the leader, the big boss, and he wasn’t going to be dictated to by anybody, and certainly not one of his feeble little wives, clinging to him for protection and and the privileges that he could provide.  But you weren’t like the others and he knew it.  You were stronger, edgier, and you kept him on his toes.  It was why you were his favourite and why he couldn’t stand to let you go.  Imprison you in his room, act like it was a punishment for your betrayal, and actually you got exactly what you wanted, and he kept his favourite wife happy, for a little while at least.  It was smart.  It was typical of the man you’d grown to love and, as you climbed into his lap to show him your full appreciation, you did your best to look contrite.

'So, like, I’m just stuck in here with you?  Every night?  Just you and me?’

'Looks like, doll.’  He lay back, settling himself against the mattress and pulling you down with him, velvety lips already exploring the sensitive spot behind your ear.  'Be careful what you fucking wish for.’


End file.
